A Bitter March
by Ms Western Ink
Summary: When a letter comes Nanao's way, the Captain gets a little better understanding. Shunsui x Nanao.


A Bitter March

* * *

Ise Nanao was a creature of habit. He'd say she was a natural born worker but he wasn't entirely certain of that. So one afternoon when she received a piece of private correspondence from a courier and watched her face turn a shade of white he'd never seen before he was more than curious. He was even more so when she tucked the letter into her desk without opening it. After that she seemed to keep falling into space, drifting away, far away from her work.

He'd thought of teasing her… suggesting notes from secret admirers but there was a darkness in her eyes he'd never seen before. Solemnity. There was a deep, murky stillness in her just then and for hours afterwards. It was that mysterious change in her that kept him at his desk, sober, staring at her instead of wandering off for more lazy activities. She had always had the uncanny ability know both when he was not working and when he was staring at her and reprimanded him in kind. That day, as he was guilty of both, his desk unruly and piled with work, she was silent. At mid-day she rose for lunch, plucking the letter from her desk drawer and he rose to follow her.

"Going out for lunch today, Nanao-chan? Let's go to the little place with the noodles."

He expected a lot out of her. Exclamations, perhaps. A quietly worded "no" maybe. Something more than the distracted hush he'd been subjected to all morning. When she paused beside him and looked up at him with somewhat haunted eyes he was more than a little shaken by the change in her.

"Did you say something, Captain?"

What the hell was in that letter she was holding? Who had the capability of upsetting her when she'd seen only a _return_ address? He knew a great deal about Ise Nanao, he'd always thought that. Now, he wondered, if he knew anything about her. Where had she come from? Was she from the Rukongai? Did she have family inside the court? Was Ise really her name? What if it was a name she'd adopted?

"Let's have lunch together, Nanao-chan! You've been gloomy all morning!" he proclaimed rather genially pushing his doubts aside. To ensure she didn't wiggle away from him he grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall.

The little noodle house was small and it was pre-lunch hour so they wouldn't be crowded yet. Maybe he could get a private little booth and drag answers from his little Vice-Captain. He didn't like the anxious expression on her face, it didn't belong there. Melancholy Nanao did things to his insides he didn't like.

He wasn't sure how much more the girl could surprise him in one day but she allowed him to drag her to lunch without complaint. She even sat down at their table dutifully without grievance.

"What's wrong?"

With her fingers laced together and her attention clearly elsewhere he was more than a little baffled. There was little he could say to her that wasn't as blunt. He didn't want anything but the absolute direct from her lips. The question seemed to dispel the fog in her eyes as she met his gaze for what seemed like the first time all day.

"Nothing."

"Try again, my dear."

Endearments from his lips usually brought reprimands from hers but she didn't comment. Instead she just sort of shook her head in dismissal. "I received a letter from someone I haven't seen in a very long time."

"Then why don't you read it already?"

The haziness returned to her eyes as she retrieved the letter from inside her uniform. It was straight and crisp. The writing, though he could not read it in the moment he saw the front was clear and neat. Family of hers perhaps? She never mentioned family. Honestly, she never discussed her personal life with him at all. No one came to visit her. As far as he knew she didn't do anything special on holidays. He criticized himself for not being more considerate. This year they would have to do something special together.

Watching her open it he noticed the slimness of her hands and the clear, trimmed nails on the ends of her fingers. They were longer than he'd thought. When he took the time to notice, there really was an elegance about Nanao-chan. She was soft and trimmed and clean and she always smelled nice… Ah, he loved the way she smelled. It was all he could not do not come up around behind her to tease her everyday just so he could lay his chin upon her shoulder and inhale the fragrance that was this woman… Raising his eyes he saw she had the paper unfolded.

She read and he watched.

Waited.

The muddle in her eyes cleared again as she grew stormy, her eyebrows lowered, her shoulders tensed. The appearance of the waitress was unnoticed by his companion and he took it upon himself to order for her. It hardly seemed like the kind of thing she'd mind just this second. He expected her to lower the letter when done, but instead she crunched it into a ball in her palm angrily.

"Do you need personal time?" Perhaps it was a family emergency and she needed to go. Sure, the office would suffer, but they would all survive her absence for a few days.

"No. I do not care." There was a well of ice in her voice. Who was writing her? Those beyond forgiveness?

"Care about what?" he gently inquired.

She glared at him as though he were responsible for the reprehensible letter and then her gaze softened. Silently, she appraised him. Nanao hadn't looked at him that way since they day they met, slowly, curiously. It wasn't licentious but assessing; as if she were totaling him up as a person. "It is an honor," she murmured. He could barely hear her. "…to work for you Captain Kyouraku. Please remember that."

With that, she leaned forward bowing, leaning so far down she was almost laying her head upon the table. When again she was looking him in the face with the same melancholy expression she spoke again. "They would hate you… everything about you."

"They" he thought, could only be her family. Nanao surely wouldn't care what anyone else thought of him. Where did she come from, he wondered again. He thought of her daily rituals and her neatness and her penchant for rules. She must have come from somewhere strict.

Did he care that her family wouldn't approve of him? Frankly, he realized, he didn't. If Soul Society couldn't make him reform what did he care of the stringent parents of his junior officer? It didn't seem to bother her any if she was thanking him for keeping her. Why would he give her up in the first place? Again, it led only to more questions.

Ise Nanao and intrigue. That was new.

"What do they want?"

The waitress took that moment to interrupt them with food. His laden plate was usually a welcome distraction but today it held only half its normal appeal. Nanao regarded her food with the sort of emptiness one has when they stare at a buffet on a full stomach. Reaching for her chopsticks, she ignored his question and he reached for his own wondering if he should pester her or give her time.

He was halfway through his noodles when she spoke again. Her gaze had been lingering somewhere near the doorway and despite glancing over there numerous times he saw nothing there that could hold her attention.

"They were writing to tell me that the head of house has died. I inherit."

Was the head of house her father or just the head of house? She didn't look sad about it.

"You going to go and visit?"

He wasn't sure where that would entail going to but he was willing to go along for more than his own personal curiosity. Despite his burning interest, she never answered.

* * *

Passing through the west gate that led out into the Rukongai, he was both a bit alarmed and a bit curious. She had decided to visit then? Or was this a trip to clear her mind? Couldn't she walk the streets of the inner court if she needed peace?

He didn't like her wandering dangerous places alone. It may not have been on equal footing with fighting hollows but wandering the lawless streets of the Rukongai certainly it had its dangerous aspects. Nanao-chan could protect herself, he acknowledged that. She knew more kidou than he knew was possible for any one soul to remember but she was small in stature and female. Ise Nanao was the kind of woman that called to his manly instincts. He was compelled to protect her. It was that part of her that made him more attentive to work outside the office. He may not have been called upon for combat very often but when they were it was the presence of Ise Nanao that guaranteed she didn't go anywhere in such a place alone. Ultimately it had the side-effect of boosting morale in the Division to have the Captain on the field.

Now, following her through the crowds of _Junrinan, _district one in West Rukongai, he wondered just where he would end up and if she would attempt to lose in him the process. She had taken the time to discard her Vice-Captain armband before leaving he noted but had left on her uniform.

It was hours before she slowed the brisk, determined walking pace. The sights, the sounds of Rukongai were familiar enough as they rarely changed. The self-governing outer world was always awash in activity and the presence of the black-robed shinigami amongst the common people was always quickly noted. Some were fearful, others respectful… some showed no notice at all while the gutsier dared to glare. His Captain's robe, hidden beneath his pink kimono drew a curious gaze or two.

Along the way through section one and then two, there were no stops. She didn't pause to look at a little roadside stand or take a rest in a large, grassy field they'd passed through. There was no indication at all she knew, or cared, that he was following her, she kept right on moving. The quick, uneventful trip came to a curious halt as soon as they entered _Hokutan_, the third district in West Rukongai.

Her quick paced slowed and she entered a small, dark curio tent. In the street, surrounded by neatly dressed commoners he found himself peering around. Vendors in every direction. Distracted by a little glitter he wandered over to the stand next to the tent that Nanao-chan had entered and glanced over a few trinkets. Hair pieces mostly, he noted, admiring the combs and beads. Nanao never wore anything elaborate like that and idly he wondered how long her hair was.

After several long minutes he took a glance at the curio tent and started toward it. It had not been above two minutes, he was certain but he had the oddest sensation. Stepping into the tent he found the darkened environment unnerving and quickly spotted the stooped, aging owner behind a little counter near the back. That's also when he spotted the slit in the cloth that marked a back exit of the shop.

"Did a girl in a shinigami uniform sneak out the back?"

The aging man turned his eyes up to Kyouraku and they met one another's stare evenly. The old man had blue eyes that were hazy, clouded as though he were perhaps blind.

"Aye, sir… there was a girl here… she sneaked around behind me like a little snake and slipped outside. Nothing back there I told her but she was already gone. Those Ise never listen."

Several things immediately assailed the Captain of the Eighth Division. There was nothing on Nanao that would've indicated that she was part of the Ise family unless she or they were known in this area. Second, the hissing tone the shopkeeper had used when mentioning the family was telling.

"Do you know her?"

"Ise Nanao, inheriting child of the Ise family estate… her father publicly disinherited her after she ran away to become a shinigami against the family wishes."

"Then the Ise family lives here in Hokutan?" Kyouraku asked conversationally. If the man knew things, he speculated, there was no reason why he shouldn't go ahead and chat. After all, Nanao-chan was already long gone but he didn't worry about that. If the Ise family was really this well known it would be easy enough to locate their residence.

The old man's lip curled up revealing a row of chipped, yellowed teeth. "The Ise family thinks they own Hokutan walking around here like they're better than the rest of us. Those skinny noses always in the air… and that one looks exactly the same… except older." The old man pointed a long, skinny finger toward the back exit.

"Oh? Are they an old family here? I've never heard of them."

The man hissed. "New money. They own shops, lots of shops, always opening more, taking over other shops. Cold-blooded mercenaries of business. They chase out their neighbors and keep adding onto that_mansion_ they live in."

Ah, little Nanao came from a wealthy Rukongai family. Though they weren't great in number the wealthy of the Rukongai were gathered in the towns closest to the inner court. Suddenly there were a great many more questions on the table, all unanswered. How many family members were "they" anyway?

"I heard that the head of house recently died."

The man's cloudy eyes narrowed. "Old man Ise… who got up early every morning just to sweep the orphans off his front step died weeks ago. His latest woman is still up in the house… did little Ise come to chase her off like her daddy? Toss out the common garbage?"

Had that been how she grew up? In a house where she was told she was better than everyone else? He tried to wrap his mind around it. She had never seemed especially elitist to him, albeit she could be curt and rude but never purposely snobbish. More than that, why had she run away from home in the first place?

"Where would I find this 'Ise mansion'?"

* * *

The portrait was new, she thought, staring up at the huge oil painting above the fireplace. She remembered her father's face looking like that. Dark and menacing with those glowering eyes… The entire place looked a bit different though, more ritzy. She could no longer even recall how many years it had been since she'd been banished from this place. A _disgrace_ to the family with her common ideals… _no self-respecting person would ever lower themselves to becoming a shinigami, the dogs of Soul Society._ Maybe she hadn't left behind as much of his venomous teachings as she'd thought. You could run, she thought, but ones memory packed its own bags.

The old arguments, the degradations, the punishments… how many hours had she languished in her room with books that became page-worn from overuse and passages memorized from repeated readings?

She thought then of her Captain. His lazy attitude, the drinking, the women… the pink kimono...there were other things though. Looking at him earlier she remembered, she saw in him the reason she stayed a shinigami. There was tenderness and compassion and honest in him… he was the antithesis of the man in the painting above her head.

Just setting eyes upon him her father would've died upon the spot… she could picture it now, his stern, angular face turning purple in rage… standing behind his imposing desk resting his knuckles upon the surface, a sleeping dragon rising, uncoiling ready to sink his fangs so deep into her heart…

It was the height of irony that her defection from this place had ultimately landed her in the center of the Eighth division instead of the Sixth. Her father would've approved of Kuchiki Byakuya and the fact he was the head of the noble house of Kuchiki would've been a bonus to him had the Kuchiki family not been shinigami.

Now, staring up at her dead father's face she wondered if he was as scary in life as her memories suggested. Had she been too young, too cowed to truly stand up to that man? Had he died as he lived? With every nuance planned and accounted for? Alone?

"Come back to take over the place, have you?"

The cruel, twisted tone of the visitor was no surprise to her. The face was different, Nanao noted, as she took in the sight of the woman now filling the doorway. Elegant clothes, neat face, neat hair… she looked like one of her father's creations. Just another version of "mother", they had always been alike with different names. Nanao looked away back at the portrait. Despite her remembering her father's eyes as black and cold they were actually hazel in the picture. There was even gray at his temples. How old had he been? What had he died of? What was she to do about this place? She hated this house she didn't want to inherit it. He had told her she would never again be welcome here so… what in the world was she doing back at this place?

"Hey." The woman's attempt to regain Nanao's attention was interrupted by her own gasp and Nanao turned staring, not the little lady, but the presence behind her.

"It took you longer than I expected to get here," Nanao murmured.

His wide-brimmed straw hat had vanished somewhere along the way. His lazy mouth lifted into a soft grin. "I was chatting with the neighbors."

Her relief at seeing him immediately dimmed and she turned back to the portrait as though she were presenting the man to her father.

"Is this your house?" he asked from behind her.

"It is a house," she acknowledged. "And I used to live here."

"Is this your mother?"

The woman herself scoffed, as if affronted by the suggestion.

"No. I've never had a mother." She turned and stared at him looking past the cold beauty in the doorway. "Ask," she murmured. "I will never answer these questions again."

He came forward stepping past the woman who was glowering with her arms crossed and looking offended at their presence. The room was large and white. The surfaces glistened, the glass sparkled.

"Is that your father?"

She nodded.

"Who's she?" he motioned his chin in her direction, the woman behind him.

Nanao shrugged. "Just a woman. '_You can reach into mud, Nanao, and pluck up dirty stones and wash them up but they're still stones and you still have to toss them back. Eventually they lose their artificial sparkle'_."

A long moment of silence followed.

"He did it every ten years or so, a new mother. It was the same kind of woman over and over again; different shapes or colors but the same cold eyes and cruel painted lips and eventually they all just left."

"Word on the street is that you got tossed out of here," her Captain noted walking toward the grand window covered in soft white sheers. The fabric hanging from the rods was voluminous.

"_'Traitor, ungrateful wretch, worthless waif, treacherous bitch, worldly slut',_" Nanao frowned. "I never wanted to be a shinigami but it was the only way. He would never follow me there."

"Did he hurt you, Nanao?"

She wasn't sure what kind of hurt he meant. Did he mean did the old man rape her? Or beat her? Or …? Was it all of those things? "I spent most of my life here locked in my room." It was an understatement. She had spent veritable years in her room, alone while time ticked away on daddy's grand clocks. She'd had little but increasingly worn books and a hopelessness that was gradually giving way to desperation.

"Did he hurt you, Nanao?" her Captain repeated, this time with more force to the question. She wondered how he expected to demand retribution from a man long dead if that's what that tone was suggesting.

"If you're asking if I was sexually abused, no. He never would've dared to injury me physically as I am the only heir to this household. Even now, banished from here I am still sole inheritor." She paused. "He would never leave his house to the _common_."

"Did he banish you because of your acceptance into the academy?"

She nodded. "He got the letter before I could. I jumped out the window. A trip that took us half a day took me twelve days the very first time. I got lost, I got robbed, I got beaten up, I was nearly raped, it was the worst trip of my life…" she sighed and swallowed thickly. "So, what do I do with this place now?"

He gave her a long look. "What do you want to do with it?"

"Burn it down," she whispered. "I hate this house."

* * *

_"I hate this house._" It wasn't the words themselves that shook him. It was the tone, the message beneath. 'I hate this house', which seemed to mean, '_I hate myself'_ as she was the living embodiment of what her father had wanted the Ise name to be. She was the straight-backed enforcer of rules; the queen of propriety… isn't that what this place was?

Raising one hand, he cupped her cheek and in response she trembled. His little queen of propriety was a white castle under siege…

"He would hate you," she whispered, eyes glazed.

It bolstered him. The knowledge that Nanao's father would've disapproved and that she stayed with him. Or did she stay to spite him? "Is that why you stay?" The roughened pad of his thumb stroked her cheek very gently.

She shook her head in the negative. "What would happen to me without you?"

He brought his other hand up to cup the other side of her face and the trembling of her frame settled. She eased beneath his touch. The possibilities of her last statement were startling. He didn't dare inquire.

"Then make it something you wouldn't hate," he suggested. "The merchant said your father rose early to sweep orphans from his steps, make it an orphanage." It was an off-hand suggestion, something that had simply popped to the front of his mind but the way it lit up her eyes proved it to be a valuable contribution. He tried to remember the last time he'd seen her so enthused about something.

"I… could most certainly do that. There would be very little expensive involved." He almost smiled. Leave it to Nanao to jump right into the heart of running a project. When she lifted her head to look around the place contemplatively he felt a weight fall from his shoulders he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.

When she turned the direction opposite of him he found himself unable to resist the temptation to reach for her, to touch her again. He circled his arms around her tiny frame and pulled her back against his chest and for once there were no exclamations following the physical contact. Rather, she turned her head up to meet his gaze, still and quiet in the circle of his arms.

"Would it matter to you that he'd hate me?"

"You've never pretended to be anything other than what you are," she answered sedately. "…and that's all that's ever mattered to me."

There was much unsaid. It was a strange thing; it tugged at dark places in his heart. It made his chest ache to see that tender, soft, honesty in her eyes. Nanao's truths were black and white; she had little room for grays except for him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hug her tighter or kiss her, settling for the latter he leaned down to do so. Instead of warm skin he received a stinging slap from her fan.

"Nanao-chan," he whined.

She slipped away from him and stalked toward the doorway where the woman was still standing taking in the scene. His strict Vice-Captain paused to turn back and glare. "Do something useful and barring the actuality of that, do something quiet and stay out of the way."

* * *

There were photos.

It wasn't odd for photos to appear on the desks of the officers in the 8th Division except that the photos were occasionally popping up on Ise Nanao's desk. The stoic Vice-Captain was not known for sentimentality and had the least personal office in the building. Her office looked barely used at all with the way she kept everything very carefully out of sight.

More than that, the photos were of children.

Rumors abound about the identity of the kids. Some speculated they were the love children of the Captain and the Vice-Captain. Others suggested even more salacious things like the Vice-Captain had set up an orphanage for the Captain's innumerable illegitimate children.

None of the gossiping junior officers and squad members had the gall to approach her. Not even as the photos disappeared, only to be replaced with newer photos months later and the speculation continued.

There was even a story that once the Captain had been overheard telling the Vice-Captain that, "_We need to visit our babies, Nanao-chan, they need us!"_ It wasn't the statement itself that garnered so much gossip in the 8th but the accompanying fact that she had reportedly left with him and that there'd been a small, gentle smile on her face.

Rumor being what it is who knows if that ever happened.

-End.


End file.
